Let's Hear it for Big Sisters!

Today, as I lugged box after box up the stairs to my new apartment two families parked themselves on the sidewalk I was using and chatted.  Don't get me wrong, they were nice and moved every time I passed.  Anyway, one family had two little girls, I'd guess 5 and 3.  The adorable tow-headed 3-year-old was bouncing around as people that age often do.  Our eyes met, and I smiled.  She said, "Hi!"  I said, "Hi!"  Then she ran ahead to her sister.  Her sister gave me the "I'm not sure about you" look, and grabbed her sister.  Since they live below me, I heard them talking on the stairwell as I hefted another box of books up the stairs.  I smiled a big smile when I heard the big sister rebuking the little sister.  "You don't know her; she's a stranger!" she said.  That's right.  That big sister knew her stuff and was doing her best to make sure her sister stayed safe and wasn't carried off by evil people.  Big sisters may be bossy fun spoilers, but they sometimes they do it because they love you.

Dietary Disaster

Yesterday was not a good food day. 

In the morning I had a meeting at 8 AM in another town at a coffee shop.  I really like coffee, but I don’t drink it often.  I’m strangely affected by caffeine if I drink lattes, and the acidity makes my stomach feel blurghy.  If I eat something before/during, I’m usually okay, but increasingly not even that helps. 

Yesterday, I really wanted a latte, so I decided to go for it.  I also ate a scone.  Let me tell you the scone was NOT good.  It was crumbly/dry and uninspiring.  It also didn’t help my stomach.  I ended up paying for that latte all day with blurghy feelings.

It probably didn’t help that I returned to my new home and immediately received a call that scheduled a meeting about 2 hours later in FoCo.  I rushed out of the house, forgetting to bring a lunch (or even a snack) with me.  Disaster!  Of course, I didn’t have leftovers in the fridge anyway, and living in two homes is not helping my ability to keep combinable foods in a single location.  i.e. If the bread is in one place, the things that go in the middle are in the other.  Ugh.

So I went to my meeting.  Late afternoon arrived.  I realized I was hungry and hadn’t eaten.  I decided to eat, but I needed to do it quickly and return to work.

Here’s the problem; this is what I had to work with. 

1) $2

2) My location in the middle of campus meant the only place open close was the student center fast food.

3) I arrived at said place to discover the only places open were Panda Express and Carl’s Jr.

4) Panda Express has no items under $2.

5) Carl’s Jr. could provide me french fries or a spicy chicken sandwich.

As you can imagine, I was distressed.  Admittedly I was way more excited about the french fries.  However, I couldn’t eat just french fries for dinner.  Remember my tummy was blurghy, and well, that's just a bad idea.  Also, not eating was no longer an option. 

So spicy chicken sandwich it was.  Gross.  Gross, gross, gross.  GROSSSSS.  Besides the fact that this sandwich has no nutritional value, it is full of bad fat and carbs and isn’t really even real food.  Worse, if you’ve ever had one, you know it tastes like pepper.  Not cayenne, paprika, cumin, or chili pepper.  Black pepper.  Don’t get me wrong, I love black pepper (and all other peppers), but if I wanted to experience a straight black pepper flavor, I would eat black peppercorns, not a sandwich.  Why do people eat this sandwich?  Really, the sandwich is full of sodium, but you can’t taste the salt for the pepper, which I find disturbing.  Sometimes I forget just how bad it is, eat one when I'm in a bind, and immediately remember why I hate it.

As you can imagine, my stomach stayed blurghy all day, even after I got home and ate some carrots and real food for supper.  This day's diet is not to be repeated if I can help it.  Blurgh.

A Feast

"Mercy and truth are met together. Righteousness and peace have kissed each other." Psalm 85: 10

Babette's Feast (1987-Gabriel Axel) is one of my favorite movies ever.  EVER.  The story, written by Isaak Denison aka Karen Blixen (she wrote Out of Africa, too) is a parable about the extravagance of God's love (plus a few love stories and some food).  This movie convicts me every time.  Truth is not complete without mercy, nor mercy without truth.  I could go on and on, but really, you should just watch it.  To help you decide if it's worth your time (it is) I have included a barebones plot summary.

Two elderly sisters in Jutland passed up the opportunities to get married as young women in order to devote themselves to the work of their pietist sect leader father.  They carry on his work after he dies.  During a storm a woman named Babette seeks shelter in their home and becomes their cook and housekeeper, changing the lives of the sisters and the sect's aging followers. 

Babette (an escapee from France during the turmoil of the French Revolution) renews a lottery ticket in France every year, and one year she wins.  She proposes that she cook a banquet in honor of the sisters' father's 100th birthday anniversary with her money.  The sisters agree, with reservations.  The rest...you'll just have to watch.

PS  You can order the movie through netflix or find it in a movie rental store with a good 'classics' section.  The movie is in several languages, so make sure your subtitles are on unless you are fluent in French, Danish, and a few other European languages.

Friendly hiking visitors

I finally went hiking last week when Jenny was here.  It was fabulous.  Partly it's fun to be in good company.  Partly it's fun to see pretty scenery, but mostly, it's fun to expend energy in 60 degree temps instead of 100 degree temps. 

This lovely mountain is somewhere on the way to Emerald Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park.  This is my shout out to Bob Ross's happy little trees for all you daytime PBS in the 1980s fans.

 Jenny and I at said lake.

 Jenny with M.  Note this man is a farmer.  You can tell by the Pioneer hat.  ;)

 Thistles grow everywhere--even on the alpine tundra.

 This is not from RMNP but fits the theme.  This is from a few days later when Husband and I went on a birthday hike to Royal Arch near Boulder with Amy, Beth, and new friend Meegan.  That one was hot, but we did vanquish the ridiculous stairs.  This is not me smacking Husband, but is a 'silly pic'.

We went to Casa Bonita. Crazy & strange!!  This pic follows in a long tradition of Jenny and I taking pics with drinks in our hands—specifically margaritas and martinis. Don’t ask us why. We’re not lushes. I promise.

Spike

You know how some people treat their pets as people.  I am not into that.  However, I do enjoy being a plant mother.  And being a bit of a hypocrite, I have a plant with a name, a history, and a bit of a personality.  My plant's name is Spike.  He is spikey, and yes, he's a he.  Don't ask me why.  Maybe because Spike isn't a great girl's name.  I got Spike as a tiny little 8-inch plant from a high school friend who was giving away center pieces from her sister's wedding.  This occurred in 2002, I believe.  I have had Spike ever since.  Our first summer together I watered him once.  He survived.  He has lived in several basement apartments and survived without sun for long periods of time--sometimes under the care of long-term babysitters like Jill and Allison.  Several times I have forgotten to turn him, and he has grown crooked.  Some of my friends actually know who/what I'm talking about when I refer to him by name.  He has moved at least 9 times with me, and while he wilted every time he also perked up again.  Except this past move.  I put Spike in the car and took him from FoCo to Longmont, and he wilted.  He was so wilted that his leaves didn't revive after a big drink.  I was SO WORRIED, but I had a plane to catch.  When I returned 2 weeks later, Spike had only one green leaf sticking out of a bunch of dead, whitish leaves, and a tiny little green tuft at the top.  I was sure I'd finally killed Spike.  I called all my friends who would sympathize.  I mean, if I couldn't keep an almost unkillable plant alive, could I ever be a mother or even a good aunt?!  I guessed no and was sad.  But....
Happy news!!  The little green tuft at Spike's top began to grow!  Hooray!  I have not killed my beloved Spike, just permanently scarred him, most likely.  I'm so glad to have him back. 

Jenny's Coming!

Tomorrow a good friend is coming to visit.  :)  I'm not planning to blog because I plan to have fun.  :)

Little Car

I love my little car.  He is old and falling apart, but he is wonderful.  He was a present from my dad, which makes him super-special.  I will be sad when he dies.  I love that my little car possesses no power locks or windows or fancy computer parts.  Instead, he is mechanical, which means he is also very fixable.  Unfortunately, sometimes he needs fixing.  In fact, he always seems to need fixing when I am broke.  Guess who's broke? Yep, me.  Guess who  broke?  Yep, little car.  Little car's brakes fell apart, so I got to buy him new brake drums.  Also, his battery decided to die today WHILE his brakes were being replaced.  No joke.  There were no power problems until today.  So the guy who helped me out at the Ford hospital charged it back up for me and told me to bring it in immediately after my trip to Brighton (about 1 hour away) to get it replaced.  Little car made it to Brighton, but his battery did not stay charged.  I was stranded there until Husband came from Denver to save me.  I had to drive back to the Ford hospital which had closed by then and drop off my little car and walk home.  :(  Actually, the walk was nice.  And if I wasn't a busy slacker, I would replace my own battery, but well, there's some serious corrosion on my old battery.  And I'm a busy slacker who doesn't want to keep calling people to come charge up her car if I do something wrong.